The Road
by dee768nj
Summary: Babe short in three parts. Ranger has to go away on a long and dangerous mission, and he might not return. Will Steph wait for him?
1. Chapter 1

The Road

_Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money._

_Minor smut warning, and a bit of angst._

1

Ranger had been out on a surveillance shift and I'd fallen asleep on my couch waiting for him to come back. Lately he'd been letting himself into my apartment late at night. I'd go to sleep alone and wake up wrapped up in warm, Bulgari-scented arms.

Although we'd been sleeping together every night for almost a month, sleeping was all we'd done. Lots of hot, open-mouthed kisses, and lots of ruined panties, but no actual Ranger-induced orgasms. I wondered what he was waiting for, but Ranger is Ranger, and he always has a reason and a plan. I knew when he was ready he'd finish ruining me for all other men.

Tonight the lock tumbling brought me out of a restless sleep. I'd been dreaming, I think, but I couldn't remember anything except a feeling of dread.

I sat up and looked at Ranger sleepily. "Hey, Soldier, did you catch the skip?"

"Got a call. Babe. I have to go away, and it's going to be a long one."

"How long?"

"At least six months, maybe a year."

Tears came to my eyes, but I refused to be a clingy whiner. "When do you have to go?"

"Very early in the morning."

"Can you stay tonight?"

Instead of answering, Ranger scooped me up off the couch and carried me to the bedroom, depositing me on the bed. He removed his utility belt and placed the gun from the small of his back on the nightstand. Sitting on the edge of the bed he pulled off his boots and socks, and then stripped off his tight t-shirt, revealing the most tantalizing body ever to grace a human. I did a drool check. Just a little, and I quickly wiped it away.

He gave me a full-on smile and then stood and removed his cargoes. Commando. And an amazing mocha-latte ass that I wanted to eat for dinner. And breakfast. And lunch…

I could feel the wetness pooling between my legs, and my nipples stood up and screamed for attention as he turned toward me to reveal a full erection, the biggest I'd ever seen. I'd seen it before, of course, but just the one night, and that was a long time ago.

He lay down beside me on the bed and wrapped me up, his mouth on mine, tongues dueling. And then he began kissing his way down my body, removing my clothes on the way. I knew how much he liked to kiss, and he tasted every inch of me, his mouth and tongue and teeth making me cry out with pleasure.

After my third orgasm, he slid his body up mine, the feeling of skin on skin making me ache to have him inside me. He paused, poised to enter me.

"Are you ready for this, Babe?"

"I've been waiting for this for years, Soldier. I'm beyond ready."

oOo

We couldn't get enough of each other, and were just resting for a minute between rounds when Ranger's watch alarm beeped at 4:30 a.m.

He groaned and pulled me tight, kissing me until I thought my eyelids would roll up, cartoon-like, and flap round and round like window shades.

Then without a word he got up, went into the bathroom for a few minutes, and came out dressed. When he had all his weapons back in place, he sat down on the side of the bed and pulled me into his lap.

"Babe, I wish I didn't have to leave, but I have no choice. I'll tell Tank to let you know whenever he hears anything about my status, and please call him if you need help with a skip or anything else. I love you, Stephanie."

"I love you, too, Carlos. Please be careful, and come back to me as soon as you can."

He kissed me once more and rose, turning toward the door.

"Wait, take this." I jumped up and rummaged quickly in my jewelry box, pulling out a small silver St. Christopher medal on a chain. "It's supposed to be protection for travelers."

He took the medal solemnly and put it in a pocket. Then he paused for a moment. Opening another pocket he pulled out a small, battered, leather-covered book.

"Babe, I want you to have this. It's a book of American poetry that I've had for years. I used to take it on missions, read it when I had a chance. It reminded me of home when I was in some pretty desolate places."

"But Ranger, don't you want to take it with you this time?"

"I can't, Babe. Where I'm going, I can't tell you where, but the climate will ruin it. So I want you to have it."

"I'll take it, but only to keep for you until you get back. Then I'll return it to you."

He kissed me one last time and was gone.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

2

_Thirteen months later_

I awoke crying, covered in sweat.

"Cupcake, are you okay?" Joe asked me, looking in through the bedroom doorway.

I was short of breath, but I answered him as calmly as I could. "I'm okay, Joe. Just a dream."

"Seems like you've been having a lot of dreams lately. I've got coffee all made, and there's Boston crèmes, too. Come on out and get breakfast."

"Thanks, Joe. I'll be out in a minute."

I lay there for a minute, thinking about the dream. It had started right after Ranger left on his last mission.

_I was in a jungle, very warm and humid, surrounded by ferns and vegetation, a high canopy of trees overhead. Sweat poured from my body, generated by the heat, dripping down my face, neck and chest. I paused, listening. Over the twittering and cawing of birds and the chattering of monkeys I could hear them. They were after me, and they were getting closer._

_I ran down a narrow, overgrown road in the jungle, silent in spite of the fast pace, not wanting a sound to give away my position. I pressed a hand tight against my side, trying to staunch the bleeding that had begun again. I was wounded in multiple places, and the wounds were slowing me down, impeding my progress._

_All of a sudden I came upon a fork in the road and stopped, trying to decide. I needed to get across the border into the neighboring country, and then I could call for an extraction. But which path?_

_As I stood looking at the two trails in front of me my hand went into my pocket to feel the small disc there. The pursuit behind me grew louder and I knew they were only seconds from capturing me._

And then I would wake up, every time, crying out Ranger's name.

I dragged myself into the bathroom, a zombie, constrained by fatigue from lack of sleep. I began having the dream almost as soon as Ranger left, and at first it was only occasionally, and much less intense. But after Ranger missed his check-in eight months ago, the dream became more detailed and more disturbing. There had been no word from Ranger since that time, and Tank said the brass were presuming Ranger to be dead.

I knew better. I'd feel it if he were gone, I was certain of it. When the dream stops, I told myself, then I'll give up, but not a second before.

I shuffled out into the kitchen wearing a ratty old bathrobe, not caring about scary morning hair, dark-circled, puffy eyes, or sagging posture.

"Here, Cupcake. Try and eat something." Joe greeted me with a cup of coffee fixed just the way I liked it and a plate containing six Boston crème doughnuts.

I sat hunched over at the table and sipped the coffee. I took a doughnut and nibbled at it, but set it back down on the plate. I wasn't hungry. I hadn't been hungry for months, and I'd lost over twenty pounds. My clothes were hanging on me, normally the occasion for a joyful shopping trip with Lula or Mary Lou, but I didn't have the energy or the ambition to shop.

I hadn't been working, either. I'd barely been able to get dressed, and after awakening several times a night with the nightmare, I'd end up napping off and on during the day to try to make up for lost sleep.

Money wasn't a problem, because it turned out Ranger had arranged for his hazardous duty pay to come to me. Every month a large sum of money was deposited into my bank account, courtesy of Uncle Sam, and according to Tank it would continue until Ranger came back. I didn't ask what would happen if he never came back. I wouldn't even let that idea cross my mind.

Because I'd lost so much weight my mom tried to insist I come over for dinner every night, and to appease her I agreed to three times a week. Joe would come to my apartment after work and pick me up. My mom had called him a few months ago, and he'd made it his mission to get me to eat, taking me to dinner, bringing me breakfast, and making sure my fridge and cupboards were well stocked.

But nothing helped.

"Gotta get back to work, Cupcake. I'll pick you up for dinner at 5:45. Try to be ready. I don't want to have to dress you again." Joe gave me a kiss on the top of my head and took off.

I sat and stared at the coffee for a few minutes after he left, and then slogged back into the bedroom. I crawled back into bed and slid my hand under the pillow to grip the little leather book of poetry Ranger had given me. I'd slept with it there the entire time he'd been gone.

I'd paged through the book a few times, and had even tried to read some of the poems, but I've never been very much into literature, so I didn't get very far. Today, however, something felt different.

I pulled the book out, rolled onto my side, and held it loosely in my hands. It fell open to a page near the center, and I noticed with surprise that a few lines of poetry were underlined in pencil. I read them:

_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,_

_I took the one less traveled by,_

_And that has made all the difference._

Written in pencil in the margin next to them was the word, "Babe."

I hadn't cried much since Ranger stopped checking in, mostly just feeling numb, but the tears began rolling down my cheeks and I was sobbing his name, "Carlos, Carlos, Carlos, I love you, I love you."

My tears stained the pages and I cried myself to sleep with the open book under my cheek.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

3

_I was running down a narrow, overgrown pathway in the jungle, silent in spite of the fast pace, not wanting a sound to give away my position to the enemy that sought me. An open wound in my thigh ached excruciatingly, but I refused to allow it to hinder me, and I pressed one hand to my oozing side._

_I came upon a fork in the road and stopped, my hand in my pocket tracing the engraving on the small disc there. I could hear them behind me and I unhesitatingly stepped onto the wider of the two paths and trod on the plants at the edge, bruising the leaves. I then stepped back out and carefully entered the other path, so narrow that it was almost unnoticeable._

_I was quiet and cautions as I advanced, leaving no sign of my presence, and I could hear my enemies tramping down the other trail. As their clamor faded I moved faster and faster, and in a mile or so the path began to widen until it became a dirt road, wide enough for a jeep or other narrow vehicle._

_I knew I'd found the road to the border, and my heart was light as I jogged along toward freedom and light and love._

I gradually came awake, dried tears on my face and the pages of the book wrinkled and stuck to my cheek. I felt rested for the first time in months, and my stomach growled. I hopped out of bed and went into the kitchen to make fresh coffee and eat a couple of doughnuts.

Then I called Tank. "Have you heard anything?" I asked.

"Nothing. Bombshell. You haven't called in months. Why today?"

"I… I had a dream… I just have a feeling…"

"I'll get back to you."

Two hours later my phone rang. "Yo," I answered for the first time since Ranger left.

"He's out!" I'd never heard Tank sound anything but neutral, until now. He sounded positively jubilant, and I screamed, jumping up and down.

Then I remembered the wounds and stopped flat. "How bad is he?"

"Nothing permanent. Knife wound in his side, gunshot wound to the thigh, various other minor stuff, but nothing that will keep him in the hospital for more than a day or two."

"When can I see him?"

"He's going to be stuck in Washington, debriefing, for a few weeks, and they won't let him see or speak with anyone until they're finished with him."

"Okay. Thanks, Tank."

I hopped into the shower to get ready for dinner at my parents'. I was starved.

_oOo_

_Two weeks later_

I was sitting in my living room watching a hockey game on TV when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I leaped up, spun around, and there leaning against the doorframe was Ranger. He was thin and gaunt, holding a cane in one hand, with a red scar across one cheek, but he was smiling all two-hundred watts.

I shrieked and threw myself into his arms, but carefully, avoiding the left side where I'd felt the knife wound in my dream.

"Oh, God, Carlos, I missed you so much," I told him, tears streaming down.

"Babe, you've lost a lot of weight."

"You too, Soldier."

"It's over, Babe. I'm out. No more missions."

"Thank God."

His lips came crashing down on mine, and he picked me up with one arm and used the cane in his other hand to walk us into the bedroom.

_oOo_

Late the next morning, we were still in bed. Ranger reached down to the floor for his pants, feeling in the pocket. "Here, Babe, I brought this back to you," and he handed me my St. Christopher medal. It was minus the chain, a little bent, but I took it from him with a smile, sending up a silent prayer thanking God and St. Christopher for his safe return.

I dug around under my pillow for the little leather book. It, too, was a little worse for wear, the pages crumpled a bit, the binding bent. It fell open to the page with the pencil marks. I'd read that poem over and over in the past two weeks and knew it by heart. _The Road Not Taken,_ by Robert Frost.

Ranger looked at the page, at the underlining. "Babe, when things were at their very worst on the mission, that's exactly what I did. I took the road less traveled."

"I know," I told him. "I dreamed it."

"You saved me, Babe. When I reached that fork in the road, I had no idea which way to go. But it was as if you were there, telling me which path to choose."

I shivered. "Let's not talk about that now. Let's talk about brunch. Where are you taking me? I'm starving."

"Babe, I think my brunch is right here in front of me," and he buried his face in my neck.

_The End_


End file.
